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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/26427250">Guess What We've Been Doin' Daddy</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/'>Anonymous</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Shameless (US)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Anal Fingering, Anal Fisting, Anal Sex, Explicit Language, Explicit Sexual Content, M/M, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Prolapse, Rimming, the dirtiest thing you’ll ever read</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-09-12</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-09-29</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-06 03:22:18</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Explicit</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>2</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>7,173</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/26427250</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>A red flush is traveling up Mickey's pale skin.  His muscles working in waves of pleasure.  His eyes pressed closed tight.  Moving beneath the lids.  His breath slow puffs expelled through plush pink lips.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Ian Gallagher/Mickey Milkovich</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>4</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>220</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Collections:</b></td><td>Anonymous</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>1. Chapter 1</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Ian runs his chin down the length of Mickey's spine, watching the goosebumps rise on his pale flesh and his arms slide under the pillow like the pillow princess that he is.  Ian hides his smile in the cleft of his husband's ass.  Dragging his hands up his thighs, grasping at his hips to tilt him to the right angle before delving into his tight heat with his tongue.  Mickey's back arches in response and a breathy moan muffles into the pillow.  </p><p>Pushing past that thick ring of muscle, pulling back out and circling his rim, letting some saliva collect in the bottom of his mouth before he gathers it with his tongue and pushes back into his tight hole.  Bringing a line of slick spit with it.  </p><p>His hands circle his hips, land on the globes of his asscheeks and spread him apart, wide open to lean back and admire that perfect pucker.  Clenching around nothing already and they've only just begun.  He feels the heavy thickness of his own cock, twitching where it hangs, hard and ready.  Prepping that fine ass it more torture for Ian than anything, wanting to get it over with, press into him hot and quick.  Still too tight for comfort and forcing that burning ache up Mickey's spine like the old days.  </p><p>Not anymore.  Now they have time.  And space.  They have a small place of their own.  They can be loud and bash the headboard against the wall as much as they want.  No one around to complain.  </p><p>Ian smiles to himself again, then dives in, pressing his tongue as deep as it'll go.  Flicking at the small pleasure zone inside of Mickey with the very tip of his tongue until he arches back into it.  Dipping his hands into the center of Mickey's lower back, pressing into his arc, forcing even more of a presentation to get the desired depth into his tight recesses.  </p><p>When Mickey moans, Ian slides a hand around his hip, finding his cock rock hard and leaking at the tip.  He smears the precum with his thumb, traces it around the head and slips his hand down the shaft.  Cupping his balls that've gone tight to his body.  He hums into his ass, twisting his tongue as his thumb pulls the hole further open for access.  </p><p>"Fuck," Mickey curses against the pillow.</p><p>"Not yet," Ian draws back enough to chastise him, slapping his ass once with his free hand, picturing in his mind the red print in the shape of his hand.  Perfect against the pale canvas of his skin.  He presses his eyes closed and wills his impatience to press into his husband away.</p><p>When Mickey drags himself up to plant his palms against the mattress, pushing his ass back impatiently against Ian's face, Ian runs a soothing hand down his side, watching the explosion of goosebumps in it's wake, "be good," he orders softly.</p><p>"Fuck you," Mickey responds in a low gravelly fucked-out voice.  And they've only just begun.  Ian knows his smile is smug, pressing a non-lubed finger into his ass without warning, letting the wetness of his spit and the heat of Mickey's body envelope him.  </p><p>"Fucking me is something you need to ask for," his free hand slapping that perfect cheek again, leaving all five fingers imprinted on his white canvas.</p><p>A middle finger is the only response and when Ian slips his middle finger in alongside his index, Mickey's head drops.  A heaving breath rises his ribcage and Ian leans forward to press his lips against his tailbone, trailing his tongue over the red prints on his cheek.  </p><p>His free hand is reaching for the lube now and Mickey huffs out a sigh of relief, thinking he's going to get his cock now.  Ian's got news for him.  The click of the lube cap, and the familiar sound of it exiting the bottle makes anticipation coil in his belly.  Knowing it's doing the same to Mickey.  He nudges his fingers against his prostate again.  Then pulls them out completely, watching his amazing hole clench at air, greedy for Ian's cock.</p><p>Ian drizzles the lube all over his fingers, keeping the bottle close.  He goes in with three fingers without warning, pressing into the resistance until Mickey gives in and drops his chest back down to the bed, "good," Ian sighs, breathy and slightly overwhelmed, "you're so good."</p><p>Mickey doesn't respond vocally, but Ian knows praise does things to Mickey that he'd never admit to craving.  He leans forward again, tracing around his fingers with his tongue, prodding at the stretched rim while he works his fingers in and out slowly, flicking the pad of his index finger over his prostate every time he enters, tugging at his rim on every exit.  Until it's loose and sloppy enough with lube that he can dart his tongue into his stretched hole alongside his fingers.  </p><p>The moan that exits MIckey's mouth should be illegal for all the things it does to Ian.  His cock twitches against his thigh, and he pushes forwards to smear his precum along Mickey's leg.  A self-pleased sigh at the contact and Ian backs up, feet on the floor, hands gripping around hips, tugging him up and off the bed, taking him quick and without warning.  Mickey rolls with it, he always does, he's so good at giving Ian the control he wants, he's so good at giving into his every whim and letting him take whatever he wants.  </p><p>He positions Mickey snug against his shoulders, standing in the middle of the room now with Mickey's ass in his face.  Mickey slides his hands up to grasp Ian's hips as he slurps Ian's cock down in one gulp.  Greedy, cock-hungry bastard that he is.  He wastes no time in setting a driving rhythm on Ian's cock, choking and gagging on it, tightening his throat around the base of it as his hands grip down bruisingly on Ian's hips.  </p><p>It's so good, it's so good to have him work Ian over like that, that it's hard to focus on his perfect asshole against Ian's mouth.  But he wants it, he loves the way that muscle clenches around his tongue when he dives in, he loves the slick tightness of it as he drives forward, finding his prostate again with the tip of it until Mickey squirms.  His FUCK U-UP fingers darting away from Ian and grasping for the bedclothes.  Tangling them up in a fist, throwing his body weight off so Ian has to take a step forward and roll him to his back on the bed.  Quickly bringing his knees up to box in Mickey's head on the end of the mattress.  Leaning over him and tucking his hips towards his face to expose his pucker and dive right back in.  </p><p>He could tongue-fuck Mickey all night.  Mickey's mouth closing around Ian's cock again.  Throbbing with the need for release, but not yet.  He holds himself back, feeling the promise of his tight, wet heat against his tongue.  Every brush of his tongue against the ridges, past the rubber band feel of his rim.  Ian moans into the channel he'll be entering with his cock soon enough.  Mickey moans in response around his cock, buried deep in his throat.  His hands gripping to the backs of Ian's thighs.</p><p>Ian lets all the spit in his mouth roll down into Mickey's hole, then slips a finger in alongside his tongue.  Easily working a second one in without any resistance.  He pulls back enough to tell him, "you're so fucking loose and perfect," swiveling his hips towards MIckey's mouth, "you were so ready for this, weren't you?  Thinking about it all day, huh?" he watches a third finger join the first two, "so ready for my cock," Ian knows he's well endowed.  Why else would those rich old men have wanted his cock so badly?  And he knows more often than not, Mickey likes a tight, quick fuck.  But tonight, he's going to work him up to it.  Make sure he's loose and relaxed, "maybe I should work you up to my fist, huh?" he twists his wrist and traces his three fingers with his pinky, listening to Mickey moan, feeling it reverberating up his cock and through his system.  His eyes flutter shut, forcing the orgasm to die down.  He can feel it in his belly, spreading to his chest.  Blood rushing and pooling, feeling thick with want, making his breath catch every time Mickey breathes out a harsh puff through his nose, the sweet intoxication of it all.  </p><p>He tucks the tip of his pinky in tight against the taut muscle that's slick with lube and spit, "fuck me," he moans when Mickey's hole relents and allows entrance that easily, "you're so good.  Fuck, you're so good."</p><p>Knowing he can't actually fist him, not yet, not without losing his load.  He pulls his pelvis back, away from Mickey's mouth, hearing a whine of protest at the loss of his mouthful.  A tingle rips down his spine at the thought of watching his fist disappear into the depth of his husband.  He tamps the image down, that's something they'd need to talk about first.  Not a spur of the moment thing.  He takes a deep shuttering breath, pulls his hand out to watch that glorious clenching, then grips Mickey's hips and spins him.  Taking his pelvis in his hands, drawing Mickey down towards him as he pulses forward with his hips, letting the length of his cock slip and slide, drag over his hole, across his taint, and into the channel between his balls and thigh.  He lines it up with Mickey's pink, achingly plump cock, wraps his fingers around them both and tugs twice.  Watching Mickey twist, his back arching to bring his stomach flat, and his chest off the mattress.  </p><p>Ian drags back again, this time lining up the head of his thick cock with the stretched hole that's waiting for him.  He leans over Mickey to press a trail of kisses up his chest, neck and jaw as he pushes into the heat of him with a groan.  All the way to the base without the slightest resistance, "fuck, Mick, such a horny bastard," he mutters against his cheek before seizing his lips.  Kissing him open-mouthed and dirty, tongue fucking his mouth with the tongue that was just in his ass, letting it feel the ridges and smooth surfaces of Mickey's mouth now as he settles his full length into the greedy channel that's been aching for him all day.  </p><p>He swivels his hips, without dragging outwards, opening up more space for himself inside his husband as Mickey's legs lock over his lower back and his hands clasp behind Ian's head.  He shoves him further up the bed, not losing any contact, until his head is centered over his pillow.  Then he nudges him back, leaves his lips to nip at his neck and collarbone.  Tucking his head under Mickey's chin to watch his chest heave when Ian pulls out and slams back into him.  </p><p>"Fuck, Ian," is his reward, and Mickey's fingers tightening in his hair.</p><p>He watches again as he draws back, watching Mickey's belly hollow out, until he pushes back in, seeing the outline of his cock in Mickey's relaxed abdomen, "so good," he murmurs, watching the heat and damp of his breath rise prickles on Mickey's chest.  He drops his head, finds the nub of his nipple and clamps his mouth down around it, flicking at it with his tongue, not much differently than he did with his prostate moments ago.  The breathy moan exiting Mickey's mouth falls all around Ian, coating his entire being with a sense of accomplishment.  And they're not even halfway there yet.</p><p>He pulls out of Mickey's grip, straightening his spine until he's kneeling.  Taking Mickey's legs from behind him, to gather them in front of him, folding them into a pretzel and pushing them towards Mickey's chest.  Mickey's hands start scrabbling for purchase, finding nothing for a long time until they alight on the headboard and he drives down towards Ian with his pelvis.  Ian groans, watching the full show of his greedy hole swallowing his cock again and again.  Hearing the smacking of his balls against Mickey's ass, watching Mickey's balls jostling every time he grinds down, and his cock bobbing against his belly.  Ian drags a hand over his cock, he'll cum untouched.  He always does.  But that doesn't mean that Ian wants to ignore his beautiful cock.  </p><p>When Mickey's grip tightens, Ian watches every muscle in his arm flex, "enough of that," he utters, driving his elbows into his thighs and tugging his wrists down to hold him, taking full control.  Mickey's eyes are glossed over with lust, his pupils dilated as he watches Ian with a curious dare on his lips.  Ian feels himself smirk in response, driving his pelvis, his cock dragging in a slick glide as deep as it'll go, Mickey spread open and helpless beneath him.  There's nothing so beautiful.  </p><p>A tingle rips up his spine and he drives into that wet heat again.  Pistoning his hips in a steady slap of balls on ass, the squelching of lube echoing with every thrust.  HIs eyes roll shut, and he feels his mouth fall open in pleasure.  Letting his mind narrow down on the burning ache in his groin to release, to fill Mickey with cum.  He takes a deep breath through his flared nostrils, forcing himself to hold back.  </p><p>"Havin' a hard time over there Fire Crotch?" Mickey's gravelly voice rises a smile on Ian's lips and he releases his hold on his man, just to dive in and bombard his lips with rough and needy kisses.  Prying his lips open to dart around his tongue, his teeth, the inside of his hot, sassy mouth.  Distracting himself long enough to draw back the orgasm.  Supporting himself with his hands on the bed beside Mickey's waist.  He bites at Mickey's bottom lip, stretching it back with him when he withdraws, just enough to pinch and burn before he lets it go with a smirk.  </p><p>Nudging Mickey with his hips, pushing his legs out of the way again, to lay on his side at Mickey's ass.  Then he reaches for Mickey's legs to let them both curl around his forearm, keeping them in place with his knees to his own chest as Ian drives in.  Slow and steady.  This angle more intense, as deep as deep can get.  Lying perpendicular to him and swiveling his hips, hearing the smack of sweat slick skin against sweat slick skin.  </p><p>"So good," he hears himself utter again, his eyes traveling up Mickey's arm that's laying flat out on the bed beside him, his hand open, palm up.  Ian reaches for it, draws it to his mouth and licks a thick stripe up his wrist, across his palm, before sucking his middle and index finger into his mouth with a sloppy slurp.  </p><p>A red flush is traveling up Mickey's pale skin.  His muscles working in waves of pleasure.  His eyes pressed closed tight.  Moving beneath the lids.  His breath slow puffs expelled through plush pink lips.  </p><p>"So good," Ian repeats, watching the smile of satisfaction tug at the corners of his lips, "so perfect," he speaks against the slick palm of his husband's hand, "no one else ever.  You're so perfect," pressing a damp kiss to his palm before he pulls out without warning, backing away quickly.  Watching Mickey's body deflate like a balloon and his hole clench air desperately.</p><p>Ian grabs for him, tugging him to his butt on the edge of the bed.  Kneeling between his knees to take his cock in his mouth.  Making eye contact with those blown blue eyes, glazed over and so needy for release.  Ian sucks him down, gripping at his balls, rolling them between his fingers before moving them out of the way to press fingers into his used hole.  Tickling across his prostate, nudging his knees open wider with his elbows and releasing his cock with a pop.  Traveling down to suck his balls one at at time into his mouth, then pointing his tongue to map out his perineum, circling his rim as he draws his fingers out and shoves his tongue in.  Flattening it out, entering easily.  Mickey's hands land flat on the bed beside him, leaning back.  Ian takes his legs in his hands and drapes them over his shoulders, tonguing at his hole as he palms at his ass.  </p><p>"Fuck, Ian," Mickey is reduced to the use of two words and two words only.</p><p>Ian lets a breathy laugh escape him, his breath bursting against that sloppy perfect hole as he pulls away again.  This time taking Mickey's legs and wrapping them around his hips as he stands.  Mickey's arms landing quickly around his neck and holding on.  He stands at the back of the chair, propping Mickey's ass on it for a long make-out session.  Chasing his tongue around wherever Mickey decides to run, he can't get away quick enough.  They meet in the space between their mouths, flattening out against each other before drawing back into their own mouths.  Ian trails the length of Mickey's bottom lip before he sucks it into his mouth again, leaving an indentation of his own teeth in the same lip that Mickey is constantly chewing on.  Mickey huffs out a laugh and Ian dives back into his mouth to shut him up.  </p><p>He takes his time, letting his cock cool off in the bedroom's midnight air.  Letting himself reel it in for a moment, knowing next time he presses back in, he won't last long.  Every inch of him desperate for release, desperate to hear Mickey's guttural moan of ecstasy and watch his plump cock pumping white jizz out in a steady stream against his pale white abs as they flex in attempt to breathe.  </p><p>The thought of it alone, is enough to make Ian shove Mickey down into the chair.  His head on the seat, his ass on the backrest.  His hole open and needy.  Fully exposed and sensitive to the air.  Ian trails his tongue over it once more, shoving three fingers in to twist and screw him open once more.  Not that he needs it.  Mickey's hands are a tight clamp on Ian's wrists, his silent sign that he's no longer functioning enough to hold himself up anymore.  Fully relying on Ian to keep his head off the ground and his ass in the air.</p><p>"I got you," Ian reminds him, taking his hips into his hands and dropping a spit that lands directly in that gaping hole, slides down into that hot darkness that Ian presses his cock into immediately after.  Mickey's desperate, broken gasp sends tingles careening throughout Ian's body, his lids quickly glossing over with sparks of spots colliding and exploding when he closes his eyes to gather himself.  </p><p>Forcing his eyes open again, and a deep breath, he drives his pelvis against Mickey's ass, his balls slapping against bare skin.  He grinds and watches Mickey's mouth fall open after a swallow bobs his adam's apple.  Pulling back so the head of his dick catches on the rim, then slamming back in again to the base of his cock.  Quick and hard.  Mickey's body jostles, and Ian grabs his hips to keep him securely in place, nestled tight against him.  His legs hooked over his shoulders.  </p><p>Mickey's gone lax, letting pleasure overtake him, letting sex fog every part of his being.  Ian loves this state.  When there is nothing else, when there is nothing but the slap of his balls against Mickey's ass, the squelching of lube leaking out around his cock with every stroke, the harsh, ragged breathing echoing in the bedroom.  And the chair squeaking in rhythm with his thrusts.  </p><p>He feels himself smile, gripping tighter to Mickey as he drives into his tight, wet heat.  His greedy hole ready to be filled up with cum.  Ian angles his hips up, knowing he's rubbing against Mickey's prostate with the thick head of his dick with every thrust, Mickey's breathy moans becoming noisy, filled with lust and passion.  Neediness and hunger for Ian.  No one else.  No one else has ever made Mickey make those desperate noises, Ian is certain.  </p><p>His speed quickens, his rhythm failing and his hips jerking of their own volition as Mickey cums in spurts, shooting his load all over this stomach and chest, dribbling down into the hollow of his throat.  Ian's body responds immediately, pulsing achingly thick jizz into the used and abused hole of his husband.  Driving it in deep with his hips until the last pulse, then he pulls out, watches the string of it from the head of his dick to the clenching hole full of white seed.  He yanks Mickey's hips up, dives into his hole with mouth, receiving a surprised cry in response as he sucks his own load out of his husband's ass.  Fucking into him with his spent dick that slides in sloppy and loose as he leans over Mickey.  Trailing his lips up Mickey's cum trail, taking the combined tastes of them into his mouth, letting it linger on his tongue, against his cheeks and meeting Mickey's swollen lips.  He opens his mouth immediately with a yearning moan, urging Ian on as he paints the inside of his husband's mouth with their combined cum.  </p><p>He doesn't stop attacking Mickey's mouth until it's spread to every corner and swallowed down between them.  Until the flavor of them together as one, is diluted with the natural taste of Mickey's mouth, the underlying cigarette and beer flavors brought sharply to the surface.  </p><p>Mickey moans a tired, needy sound, deep in his chest.  His eyes remaining closed as Ian tugs him up to seated on the back of the chair.  Wrapping him up in his arms, boosting his spent weight onto his hips until Mickey locks him in between his powerful tighs, draping his arms lazily around Ian's shoulders so he can deposit him on the bed.  Crawling over him and settling between his legs.  His fingers venture back down to his puffy hole, sliding in and out slowly, spreading the last of his cum through the inside walls of his husband, feeling the blood gathered to his pleasure zones, warm and used.  </p><p>Mickey's kisses are lazy and his body is jello against the cool sheets.  Autumn's crisp air blowing through the small opening in the window.  The sounds of the city beneath them slowly seeping back into their reality.  But they can ignore that shit for now.  They can ignore that, real life, all night.  And they will.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0002"><h2>2. What's In It For Me?</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Anal Fisting.  Explicit Consent.</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Mick's ass is already propped on a pillow when Ian walks out of the bathroom.  There's a sheen of oil glossing his pink hole.  The yellow light in the room reflecting off his pale skin.  </p><p>"Thought you'd get started without me, huh?" Ian sighs, stepping out of his boxer shorts, "didn't think I'd notice?" reaching out to caress his hip, watching his body shudder at the contact, "taking my job away from me?" lifting his hand and swatting the center of his cheek.  Smirking at the sound of the slap in the otherwise silent room, the way Mickey's breath catches with it.  Watching the skin redden in the shape of his hand, "you know better than to get started without me," running his palm over the inflamed skin, "I'll have to punish you thoroughly for that," dipping his thumb into the already oiled and relaxed hole that he was looking forward to prepping himself.</p><p>Mickey's head turns, brow up, smirk on his face and finger in the air.</p><p>"I was thinking more like," Ian makes a fist with his right hand, pressing the thumb and index finger of his left hand together to form a circle and pushing his fist through it.</p><p>"Oh yeah?"</p><p>"Yeah."</p><p>"Try me, bitch."</p><p>The challenge has been laid out, Ian is not one to walk away from that.  He steps forward, taking a hard grip on Mickey's hips to drag him off his chosen pillow, pulling his loose hole up and back, bringing it closer to Ian's face.  He dips his index finger into his wet heat, without any resistance at all.  He moans, leaning forward to press his lips against the cleft of his ass.  The small dip between his pucker and his spine catching light and catching Ian's eye.  Fuck, he's gorgeous.  </p><p>Ian's tongue darts out, sliding down to his rim, licking around his finger that's flicking at his prostate, making Mickey writhe already.  His left hand tightens on his hip, keeping him in place, reminding him of who is in control.  </p><p>Slipping his thumb in next to his finger as he slides a slippery tongue around them both.  Spreading his fingers apart to stretch the hot, red opening he's about to destroy.  Pressing the tip of his tongue between his two digits, Mickey lets out a delicious moan when he laps at his sensitive gland.  Ian pulls back just far enough to murmur, "you're so good," kissing at his perineum, licking a stripe down the seam of his balls.  Watching his cock twitch as Ian teases his rim with his fingers, stretching and tugging until it's more than open and ready for another digit.  </p><p>Ian sucks his ball into his mouth as he replaces his thumb with his middle and ring fingers instead.  Releasing with his mouth only to trail down to his cock.  Horny fuck is already leaking where it's swaying hard and waiting between his legs.  Ian decides to make him wait.  No way is he cumming before Ian gets his fist in there.  </p><p>Releasing his husband's hip to reach for more lube.  Popping the cap, feeling the anticipation rise in his gut, knowing it's doing the same to Mickey.  He tips the bottle over his hand, letting it trail down his palm as he spreads Mickey's hole.  Dripping in shamelessly to the darkness of his body.  A shudder travels down Ian's spine and he hears himself moan again.</p><p>"Gettin' to ya already tough guy?" his head is turned, brow up, cocky smirk.</p><p>Ian leans forward and bites down on his asscheek, since his hands are both busy.  Mickey chuckles, turning his head forward again, leaning his forehead to his biceps.  Hands gripping at the sheets.  </p><p>Ian smiles, letting a puff of air travel across the skin that's moist with his saliva, pressing the lube cap shut and returning it to the bed beside Mickey's knee.  Leaning back to watch his pinky as it circles Mickey's rim, dipping in ever so slightly.  Twisting his wrist, and watching Mickey's body tense in waves of pleasure, "Mick?"</p><p>"Fuck."</p><p>"Color."</p><p>"Green."</p><p>Ian takes a deep breath and nudges his pinky in alongside his ring finger, groaning as it disappears easily.  The tug of Mickey's greedy hole on his fingers nothing compared to when his entire hand is swallowed.  His eyes roll back in his head at the thought, the temptation of just rushing ahead and filling him up.  Giving him all he could possibly desire.  Four fingers deep.  His cock is twitching helplessly between his legs, wanting to join the party to destroy that little hole.</p><p>He tugs all four fingers free without any warning, smiling as Mickey whines out his protest, his hole clenching desperately around nothing.  Ian smirks, quickly pushing two fingers back in to the base, rolling the pads of them against his prostate before opening them up and scissoring.  Mickey's back dips and his ass opens, Ian leans in to rub his tongue along his rim before pressing in between his fingers.  </p><p>"Fuck, Ian," it's half-muffled against the pillow.  </p><p>Ian flicks at his p-spot, lapping at it, yearning for the taste of his husband mingled with lube and lust.  His ring finger slips back into his heat without any resistance, and Ian groans into the depth of his husband.  His husband chuckles, a breathy, cocky noise that only makes Ian double-down his efforts with the tip of his tongue.  </p><p>When he drags his face back out, trailing his tongue over his asscheek, nipping at his skin as he presses his pinky into the gaping space that's ready for his whole fist.  He's certain he could reel back and punch him, but he doesn't want to.  He wants to drag this out, torture him with pleasure until he's crying for release with the weight of Ian's whole hand in his ass.  </p><p>He takes a deep breath, coils up the heat in his own belly and watches his four fingers sliding in and out, in and out.  Slow, torturous strokes, the stretch and gape of his hole wanting more.  Always wanting more.  He gets lost in it, the show Mickey's perfect ass puts on, until he realizes Mickey is watching him over his shoulder.</p><p>"You waiting for the green light fire crotch?"</p><p>"Is that it?"</p><p>He tilts his pelvis in response, taking more length of Ian's fingers, an eyebrow shooting up to make his point.</p><p>"Alright," taking a deep breath and stroking his fingers over his prostate as he gently pulls out.  Watching the expansion and contraction of Mickey's ribs while he reaches for the discarded lube bottle, greasing up his fingers one by one, then his knuckles, spreading it down his thumb and across his hand, up his wrist as Mickey's eyebrow climbs.</p><p>"Just say the word," Ian whispers, leaning forward to press kisses against his clenching, desperate hole.  Twirling his tongue inside for a taste and pulling back out.</p><p>"Green."</p><p>"Okay," a deep breath, "keep looking at me."</p><p>He nods, as Ian's knuckles press against that pink pucker.  Ian's heart is throbbing in his throat, he can feel that his eyes are wide, and blown with lust.  Taking another deep breath, pushing gently and watching that used, open, loose hole swallow the first half of his fist.  He hears himself groan, pushing forward in tiny increments.  There's no resistance.  That ring of muscle lax and ready.  </p><p>Mickey's eyes are pressed closed, moving beneath his lids when Ian flicks his focus that way, "color."</p><p>"Green," it's the most pornographic color Ian has ever heard.</p><p>"I'm going to pop a boner every time someone says the word green from now on," his voice is coming out breathy and choked off, eyes wide as he watches his whole fist disappear, getting sucked into Mickey's greedy hole, "fuck," it barely passes his lips, Mick's hole clenching around his wrist, "color."</p><p>"Green, man, fuck, green."</p><p>He holds his fist still, letting the feel of Mickey's ass invade his senses at every level.  His cock twitches desperately, drools out the tip and he leans his pelvis forward to smear the precum across his husband's thigh, "see what you do to me?  You're so good," he caresses Mickey's ass with his free hand, trailing his fingers over his pelvis, grasping and holding his cock that's gone a little softer than it was, but still hard.  He tugs it a few times, getting it back to full plumpness quickly, "color."</p><p>"Green, fuck, Ian, just fuck me with that fist."</p><p>Ian's cock hears him loud and clear, twitching and dribbling more precum out, "Jesus, Mick, I wanna fuck that dirty mouth."</p><p>He cocks his head, eyes flicking open, tongue darting out to lick at his lips, "whenever you're ready."</p><p>Ian groans his response, not wanting to loose his visual at this vantage point just yet, "I need to fuck you with this first," he tells him firmly as he drags back, tugging on his rim, "think you can give me a rosebud, baby?"</p><p>Mickey drops his head, his back bowed impossibly deep.  Ian pushes in further, watching his pink flawless hole swallowing his wrist, being certain to put pressure on his prostate with every stroke, "think you could take me to the elbow?" free hand sliding over his asscheek, trailing up his back, putting pressure on his lower back.</p><p>"Fuck, man, one thing at a time, huh?" his voice sounds as wrecked as Ian's own.</p><p>Ian smirks to himself, "you're so good Mick," asserting, pressing deeper as he says it, then starting to slowly pull back out, waiting until he catches on the rim, "push it out baby."</p><p>He watches Mickey take a deep, preparing breath, and feels his mucles working him towards his entrance.  Ian forces his eyes to remain open, the heat pooling up impossibly hot in his belly, his balls drawing up and his cock twitching and drooling.  As Mickey pushes, he draws back, slow and torturous drag until his hand pops free and Mickey's rosebud is on full display.  Ian groans, wrapping his hand around it and licking into it before it recedes, "fuck, Mick," he mumbles before his tongue darts into his hole to chase his prostate, his hands rubbing soothing circles on both asscheeks, waiting for Mickey to catch his breath, opening him up with his thumbs and listening to his ragged inhales.</p><p>"Fuck, Ian," it's like a curse and a blessing rolled into one, and Ian could get lost on it so easily.  He forces back the ball of orgasm in his belly, drags a hand over Mickey's cock to find it hard and needy, damp with precum and aching for release.</p><p>"One more?"</p><p>"Fuck yeah," he moans it, arches back towards Ian, his face buried in the pillow, his hole needy for it.  Ian drips more lube into it, lax, open, used, and fucking gorgeous.  Watching it swallow the oil and chasing it down with his fingers and tongue until Mickey is panting, and babbling nonsense against the pillow.</p><p>"Color," he barely whispers on a gasp.</p><p>"Green," Mickey's voice registers over the blood rushing in his ears as he fists up and presses in quicker this time.  Mickey groaning in response, back arching, head dragging against the pillow, hands clenched tight and white-knuckled on the sheets, "green, fuck, green."</p><p>Ian pulls back, nearly taking his fist all the way out and then pressing back in, with one smooth motion, listening to the sound of his husband's breathing and his carefully articulated, "green," knowing he's in his right mind enough to be honest.  He sounds so wrecked.</p><p>"Push it out, I wanna suck on your rosebud," uttering with his lips against his asscheek, watching his hand start to reappear in front of his face, "put it out there for me," he urges, as he pulls back on his hand, waiting impatiently and feeling a swell of awe and another shot of precum as Mickey's red rose exits his body.  Ian clamps his fingers around it gently, slippery and used, hard to hold onto, dragging his tongue over the heat and suckling at it until it disappears.  </p><p>This time he grabs Mickey by the hips, rolling him tenderly to his back, pulling at his cock with his mouth, ready for release, ready to tumble off this cliff of passion, and jizz all over inside his husband, paint his insides white and suck it back out again, he's desperate for it.  Taking Mickey's cock to the base while his fingers slip in and out, slow, methodic, twisting his wrist while Mickey's grip tightens in Ian's hair.  </p><p>When Mickey's balls draw up towards his body, Ian pops off his cock, trailing kisses up his stomach, to the whines that exit his husband's mouth, "color," he mumbles as he clamps his teeth down on a pink nubby nipple.</p><p>"Green," he sounds breathy and overwhelmed.</p><p>Ian settles some weight over him, his legs wrapping around his hips immediately, his hungry hole tugging Ian's fingers deeper inside him, "you're too good," reminding him against his jaw, licking up his neck and sucking his earlobe into his mouth.  He follows his cheekbone with his lips, dipping down to meet his mouth, diving in and sharing the flavors on his tongue.  Wondering when he leans out, "you taste yourself?  Taste yourself on me?  Fuck, you're so good, so good Mick," his hole is hungry for Ian's fingers, hungry for his cock.  </p><p>Ian is going to take a rest, force a quick rest on Mickey before he gets too eager, before his hole takes more than he can handle, but Mickey's stubborn need to please his husband overrides his own comfort and safety.  Ian keeps two fingers in his body, resting the pads of them over his prostate but not moving while he kisses his mouth, tangles their tongues, chases all the tastes of him around his mouth until Mickey's pelvis is rocking back on his fingers and dragging his cock against Ian's belly.  </p><p>Desperate little bottom.  Ian grins against his mouth, "once more?  You got another one in you?"</p><p>"You'll have another one in me," he snarks back, his eyes flickering open with a sparkle, pupils blown with lust.  He jerks his head with a, "come 'ere," and Ian obliges another long make-out session, stilling his fingers but rocking his pelvis.  His cock sliding alongside Mickey's between them.  The slippery heads dragging along each other's bellies until Mickey moans a telltale, near the edge moan, and Ian draws back.  </p><p>He pushes off on his hand and knees, lingering over the sweat-slicked and hollowed out body of his husband, "color."</p><p>"Green," Micky grumbles, licking his lips when he throws an arm out to grasp at Ian's right wrist, using his own grip to guide Ian's fingers, "all of it," he orders.</p><p>"Demanding little pillow princess," he admonishes.</p><p>Mickey grunts, but doesn't deny it.  Only tightening his grip as Ian drags his fingers out, leaning his body away so he can get a view of this.  Mickey bends his knees, letting his legs fall open and revealing his hungry hole.  Ian braces his legs with his left forearm to fold him further into himself, putting his ass on full display.  Ian feels himself flush red and he centers himself over his husband, folding his hand into a fist, unclenching enough to circle his cock with his fingers and pressing his knuckles against Mickey's pucker.  Mickey lifts his head up off the pillow, peering over his abdomen and watching Ian curiously, nodding at him and uttering, "green.  For fucking sure."</p><p>With his throbbing cock in his fist this time he presses forward, sinking smoothly and easily into that gaping, loose ass.  Fucking into his hand as his hand disappears into his husband.  Mickey's groan is wrecked and his body shudders, sending longing shivers down Ian's spine.  His heart leaping back into his throat, before he can even ask, Mickey is assuring, "green," with his eyes rolling shut and his legs trembling against Ian's arm.  </p><p>Ian's pelvis moves of it's own volition, knowing how exactly to rock into his husband, this time doing it into a tight grip with his fist inside his ass.  His eyes nearly bugging out of his head as he watches, as he feels his cock dragging on his own wrist, getting clamped and pressed by Mickey's spasming hole.  </p><p>"Fuck, Mick, I'm," it breaks off and he gasps, watching as Mickey's cock shoots off, spraying his belly, cumming untouched as usual as his hole clamps down impossibly higher on Ian's cock and hand.  Cock pulsing in his hand, shooting off in his fist, in Mickey's red, accepting and ready hole.  Slippery with enough lube that it's leaking out around Ian's wrist, sliding down onto the blanket.  Fucking until the last pulse of orgasm is ripped out of him, into that sloppy hole.</p><p>Mickey's hand is clenched tight around Ian's wrist, stilling him there.  Not tugging him away, not wanting him to pull out.  Ian's left hand slides over his husband's dick, watches it twitch and drool one last drop against the pale expanse of his flesh, smearing his cum over his skin and flattening his palm over his belly to feel the hard press of his fist still locked into his body.  He swallows hard, leaning forward to kiss Mickey's thigh, "fuck, you are so good, you're so fucking sexy."</p><p>Mickey grunts, sucks his cheeks against his teeth and his eyes slowly roll open, revealing a lost blue that's blown over with pleasure like Ian's never seen.  He feels his face fall open at the gorgeous sight, "so fucking perfect," he tells him again, letting his spent cock out of his grip, falling out with a slick trail through his fist, his head grazing Mickey's rim as it passes when he drags back with his hips, "color," he demands softly.</p><p>"Green," it's barely a whisper, a tired smile creasing his lips as his eyes lock onto Ian's and his hand tightens on his wrist, pushing forward, pushing deeper into his body, "how about that elbow tough guy?"</p><p>"Oh fuck, Mick," Ian leans forward to press his lips against Mickey's abdomen, leaving kisses against his skin where Ian's fist is buried deep inside him, "we have to save something for next round," he wants it, he wants to stand back and watch his fist disappear to the elbow, but he knows Mickey is on the ledge, he's speaking with a sex-fogged brain and he's zapping with an overload of pleasure right now.  They pre-discussed the fist, but not to the elbow.  </p><p>When Ian starts pulling out, Mickey lets out a low, exhausted whine but doesn't argue it.  Ian layers kisses on his belly as he pulls out, feeling Mickey's entire body spasming at the emptiness, "next time," leaving a trail of kisses from his belly button up the center of his chest, "I promise," lingering in the hollow of his throat, "next time I'll go elbow deep," nudging his jaw and traveling over his stubbled neck.</p><p>By the time he leans his body weight over him, releases his legs and lets them flop to the side, Mickey's eyes are closed, relaxed and nearing sleep.  Ian grins against his mouth, pressing a deep kiss into his heat.  He has no desire to leave this bed, wanting to curl into the mess they've made, but he needs to make Mickey drink about a gallon of water to replace the water he's sweat out.  </p><p>Mickey's hand falls off Ian's shoulder, lying open, palm up on the bed.  Ian bends down to kiss it, "stay awake for just a minute," whispering against his wrist when he brings it to his face, reaching for his water glass with his free hand, "sit up," gently stroking fingers up his forearm, over his shoulder, behind his neck to guide his head towards the water glass.  </p><p>Mickey sighs, but does as he's told, gulping down the water when Ian tilts the glass.  His eyes, glossy, and fucking gorgeous linger on Ian's face as he leans back out, Ian lets him go softly, a smile of encouragement on his lips when he reminds him, "so good, Mick.  You're too good to me."</p>
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